


Love and Marriage

by RaeBright



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-01-23 05:35:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12499936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeBright/pseuds/RaeBright
Summary: The world had just been through World War III and is attempting to recover. In hopes that it would never happen again, the nations are making alliances and marrying off in attempts to quell arguments. Votes are held nationwide as the citizens pick what they hope would be best for their country in the long run.For Gilbert, an ex-nation, it doesn't seem to go as planned.





	1. Chapter 1

Having your boss bring up the aspects of marriage in the work place usually meant a wedding was happening soon. Weddings were a joyous occasion held nationwide. Every nation and their people celebrated weddings in some form or another. Though, when your boss says that it's your wedding and that he's already picked out the partner, that was usually a bad sign. Especially if you're a nation.

 

At first, Gilbert laughed. He was an **ex** -nation after all. Surely it didn't mean he was to be married, but Ludwig! So he went on for weeks following Ludwig around the house and asking over and over who the lucky bride was to be. The conversation would be changed every so often or Ludwig would outright ignore him. He hoped he was beginning to become annoying because it would break Ludwig down and the blonde would outright tell him. Could he be blamed for wanting to know who his brother was going to marry? Ludwig was his baby brother, the one he cared for as he grew! As his older brother it was his right to know when and to who he was going to marry! Eventually, as he was well aware, he **had** become annoying. Ludwig was beginning to crack, he could feel it.

 

"Gilbert, mein Gott..." the blonde growled as he sat in front of the stove cooking dinner, "can't you drop it, for a day at least?"

 

"NEIN!" he yelled out, standing from his place at the kitchen table, "You're my brother, I gotta know who you're marrying!"

 

Ludwig gave out a long and exasperated sigh, "It isn't me, dammit!"

 

This gave Gilbert pause before the smile was replaced with a more nervous, albeit sly, grin, "Me, then? I mean, I'm flattered, any girl would be happy to marry someone as awesome as me but..."

 

The words lingered on his lips, 'I'm not a nation'. He'd always caught himself before he said them, however. He still felt like Prussia and by God he was. It didn't matter that he'd lost his land, his sigils were still found in bridges and buildings and everyone still remembered him.

 

"Gilbert," Ludwig's voice snapped him from his thoughts as the blonde nation turned to face him, "drop it. Please. As I've asked you for two weeks now."

 

The albino shrugged and sat back in his chair again, "Ja? And? I wanna know. Tell me."

 

A growl escaped the taller as he turned to face his older brother with a glare, "It isn't my place to tell you. I've already said too much now drop it."

 

Giving a glare, his eyes narrowed into slits as he regarded Ludwig. Something was wrong and it was horrible enough that Ludwig felt the need to not tell him, specifically. Gilbert grew quiet as he looked down towards the table, focused on the grain of the wood. If he truly were the one to be married and Ludwig didn't even want to tell him who then-

 

A knock at the front door caught both of their attentions and they both startled at the sound. Ludwig huffed, muttering about more interruptions, before stalking off with a 'watch this'. Standing and moving to the stove, Gilbert stirred the food in the pot as he listened in on the conversation. It was their boss. Ludwig clearly wasn't happy with whatever was being said. He couldn't quite make out the words. There was a third voice that only spoke up when something was directed to them and that voice sounded eerily familiar. The sound of the water boiling over and hitting the eye of the stove caught Gilbert's attention and he cursed, moving the pot quickly and losing his interest in the conversation going on in the living room.

 

"Fuck me..." he grumbled, cleaning up the mess quickly.

 

The last thing he needed was for Ludwig to return and see this. He'd been so preoccupied with finding out who was marrying who that he'd found himself easily distracted lately. And now that he'd found out Ludwig wasn't the one to be married off he had more questions than answers. Leaning against the counter after moving the pot back onto the eye, he sighed heavily. This was confusing. Footsteps snapped him out of his musing and he perked up, looking towards the entryway of the kitchen. Ludwig entered first, then their boss, then...

 

"Nein. Out. Get him out!"

 

"Gilbert-"

 

"Ludwig, I want him out!"

 

The blonde in question gave a sigh before looking over Gilbert with a pained expression, "I...can't do anything about this, Gilbert..."

 

And what the good God damn did that mean? "You're Germany for fuck's sake! This is your house!"

 

"Look," Ludwig began, "you asked me who was getting married and you've got your answer now. Both countries held a voting. This is what was chosen."

 

Swallowing hard, Gilbert's eyes slid over to his boss before finally landing on Ivan. This was what Ludwig was keeping from him, this was why he didn't want to tell him. A scoff left his lips as the pot boiled over again. Ludwig moved to check it before Gilbert took his hand and swiped it off the stove. It clattered to the floor as it's contents spilled out over the tile. The three stood there staring at him in shock, Ivan more so amusement but shocked nonetheless.

 

"Brother..." the blonde tried again as Gilbert turned away, leaning his palms against the counter, "I know it's less than ideal. But this is what you have to do. Our people chose this. You know better than anyone what that means."

 

"Ja, I get it."

 

"I'm not happy about it either," he continued, resting a hand on Gilbert's shoulder, "And I'd rather it not be this way, but-"

 

"I said I get it, West. I'm not a child."

 

Heaving a sigh, Ludwig looked back before glaring over at Ivan, "You wanted to see him, so hurry this up before he gets pissed."

 

"I believe we're passed that, da? You should have told him sooner, Ludwig."

 

A growl left him, "Ivan-"

 

"Ludwig, I got it."

 

Walking out onto the back porch quickly, he left the door open for the other to follow. Gilbert leaned heavily against the railing as the door shut and Ivan stepped out. A quiet settled between them, even though it was strained it felt better than talking. Of course, talking is what they were meant to be doing... Another sigh escaped as he turned and faced the Russian, only to be met with the other male down on one knee holding a box up. Heat settled across his cheeks as a blush formed and he averted his eyes.

 

"Seriously...?"

 

Ivan nodded, "I wanted to do it right, even if it's less than ideal," he echoed Ludwig's words as he opened the box to reveal a golden band.

 

"I'm not letting you put it on me if that's what you're hoping for."

 

"I wouldn't expect any less of you, Gilbert."

 

The albino fidgeted gently before picking the ring up and out of the box, looking it over. It looked expensive. Hell, it felt expensive. Slipping it on his ring finger, he stared down at the band silently. He never thought he'd see a ring on that finger. Ivan stood and startled Gilbert, causing the other to jump slightly.

 

"I've gone ahead and told my boss we'll have to speak of boundaries."

 

At least he was being considerate, "Good, because I have a few in mind."

 

"Though, there's one that I'm not willing to budge on, if you'd be so kind as to hear me out~."

 

Oh. Great. "What...?"

 

"I would like for us to sleep in the same bed. No negotiations."

 

"Of course you'd do something like that..." Gilbert trailed off as he crossed his arms, "Fine! I'll sleep in the same bed as you. But if you so much as touch me, you'll regret it."

 

"Da, agreed~!" Ivan cooed, a child-like grin stretching across his features.

 

"Now," the albino stepped up, looking up at Ivan with a fiery glare, "Get the fuck out."

 

 

* * *

 

Nervous was an understatement. Borderline having a mental breakdown was more like it. This was the first time in years, centuries even, that he'd had to do something political by himself. He'd sadly grown accustomed to Ludwig handling everything or being the backbone for tough decisions. He jolted as the door opened up and his boss walked in with Ivan and his own boss. They were setting the boundaries for their marriage. What each of them allowed of the other. Gilbert allowed a shaky sigh to leave him before he sat down on the couch, crossing his arms and legs defiantly. The last thing he was going to do was cow-tow to Russia.

 

"So," his boss began as he sat beside Gilbert, "we're going to do this without arguments. We're going to agree to everything before any movements are made. I want this to go smoothly the first time around. Got it, Gilbert?"

 

"Ja, just hurry this up."

 

"Ivan."

 

Gilbert's boss motioned to the Russian and allowed the floor to open to him first. Gilbert almost rolled his eyes but stopped himself. God, he was awesome. That took some restraint, that was for damn sure. Ivan reached into his brief case before producing a small stack of papers and sliding them across the coffee table for Gilbert to look over as he spoke. Hesitantly, he grabbed for them, eyes scanning the words. The normal stuff, who would do dishes and take out the trash. Who would clean what places. Personally, he had no qualms agreeing to these. No way in hell was he going to play housewife to Ivan again. He'd had enough of that after World War II. Turning the page, Gilbert continued. Ivan was requesting he learn Russian and he almost choked on his spit. Like fucking shit he was learning Russian! He coughed, readjusting himself in his seat, before continuing. He hoped none of the other men noticed, Ivan would surely take pleasure in it.

 

"Your papers, darling?"

 

Stiffening at Ivan's voice, Gilbert glared over and pulled his own out, slapping them against the wooden coffee table a bit too hard. He crossed his arms again as a smirk played at his lips. He had a few things he wasn't willing to budge on either. For instance, the fact they were going to speak solely in English. He was adamant about not learning Russian and if Ivan learned German then he'd lose his leverage. And the fact that they absolutely were not going to have sex. Ever. If Gilbert could help it, anyway. He had his hand, just as Ivan did.

 

The Russian hummed as he read over everything and looked up, "No sex? Really?"

 

"Leave it to you to cherry pick that one out, pig," Gilbert spat back.

 

"Well," the other chuckled, "I can't promise anything~. You also didn't specify if you weren't willing to budge so I'll keep it as 'open to suggestions', then, agreed?"

 

Fuck. "Whatever..."

 

"Other than that, I agree to everything~!" Ivan stated cheerfully, setting Gilbert's papers down on top of his own, "You read the part where I requested we live at my place, da?"

 

"You read the part where I requested we **not** live at mine, ja?" the albino answered back.

 

"Gilbert," his boss hissed in an attempt to settle the man.

 

With a huff he resigned himself to sighing again. The two other men fell into politics easily as Gilbert stared Ivan down. He was so smug and it pissed him off. Gilbert had to bite back the urge to stand and punch the ever living fuck out of the man. He sat back, his water being left forgotten on the coffee table a long time ago. He needed to leave this room, go home, hide in his bedroom. Just... **somewhere** away from Ivan. Then a thought hit him. Once he moved in with Ivan, he'd be sharing a room. He wouldn't have his own space, everything would be shared. Anxiety gnawed at the pit of his stomach and he swallowed hard. It made him all the more nervous. His head was swimming and he closed his eyes to stop the dizziness that threatened to topple him at any second.

 

"All right," Russia's boss spoke up finally, addressing everyone in the room, "We expect to see Gilbert at Ivan's house within the week. Is that fine?"

 

Gilbert's boss nodded, "Completely fine. Pleasure doing business with you."

 

The pair stood and shook hands and the man prompted Gilbert to do the same. With a roll of his eyes he hopped up and shook both men's hands before wrenching his away from Ivan's before the Russian had the chance to bring it to his lips. No way in hell was he allowing that man to kiss him! He'd caught the movement from the corner of his eye but it was there. And Ivan smirked deeply as Gilbert reacted in the manner he was hoping for.

"Go home, Ivan," the Prussian spat, fixing the other with a glare.

 

In return, the man nodded, "Of course. See you in a week, darling~."


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you sure this wasn't meant for Ludwig...?"

Antonio was currently sat beside Gilbert and Francis in his home, staring uneasily at the ring on Gilbert's finger. Gently, he held up the albino's hand, looking it over. It was fairly heavy but had beautiful craftsmanship. Ivan must have shelled out a pretty penny for the thing. For whatever that was worth. Still, though. Ivan? It churned both his and Francis' stomachs. The man was ruthless and usually uncaring. When the news was first brought to them today they thought Gilbert was joking until he showed off said ring.

"Honestly, though," Francis started out, leaning onto the table with his elbows, "is it fair for your boss to force this? You're not... I mean..."  
  
"Don't gotta hide it, Franny," the other waved him off after Antonio let go of his hand, "I'm not a Nation, you can say it... I've...actually been thinking about that for a while now. What does Ivan gain by siding with me? He rigged votes once - or his country did - he could easily do it again."  
  
Antonio thought over that for a moment with a hum, "Well, how do **you** feel? Do you feel any different? Think your people are outraged?"

"Nein..." he shook his head slowly before pouting and crossing his arms, "And that pisses me off the most! Why **him**? Why **Ivan**? Why **now**? We've been marrying off for three years now, why all of a sudden does he want me?"

The three fell silent for a while as Gilbert stared down at the ring. None of this made any sense. He was more than just a _little_ confused by this point. And to top it all off, he was going to be living with Ivan starting tomorrow! He was so frustrated and upset and genuinely **hurt**... Most of all he'd wished Ludwig had told him before it was just sprung on him like that. That hurt the worst. Knowing that Ludwig couldn't trust his emotions well enough to at least tell him.

"Gil...?"

Francis' voice snapped him from his thoughts and he looked up quickly, "Ja, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. I should head home, though, I've still got packing to do."

"Oui... If you need help we can tag along..." Francis tacked on a forced smile and Antonio nodded in agreement.

"We're always here to help, amigo~," his smile seemed forced as well, but Gilbert couldn't blame them.

"Nein, I got it. I'm Prussia, remember? I'm too awesome!"

* * *

 

The house seemed bigger than it did all those years ago. The area around it was also more developed and less rural. When he was here last before the wall was torn down the yard was covered in trees. A trunk slamming behind him caught his attention and he turned to see Ivan holding the last of his bags as he paid the cab driver. They exchanged words, obviously in Russian, before the older man got back inside and drove off. Air puffed from Gilbert in visual clouds as the cold air settled around him. It was always colder here than it was back at... Well, he assumed he'd be calling this place home. Again. Pulling his hands from the confines of his coat pockets, he picked up two of his bags and turned from Ivan, leaving him to carry the rest. If he was going to be staying here then he was giving the Russian a run for his money.

"Not helping?" he heard Ivan ask from behind him.

Waving him off rather nonchalantly, Gilbert wrenched the front door open, "You got it, you're a big boy~!"

It was silent as he entered the home. It still smelled the same and he shivered a bit. He hadn't wanted to admit it but he was honestly a little put off by the fact he'd be staying here. He'd venture on saying he was a little scared, to be down right honest. Wrapping his arms around himself as he looked over the foyer, a feeling of dread and nostalgia ate at his stomach. The floors were the same wood, as well as the staircase with it's plain white banister. The living room off to his right was a bit more modern with different furniture and a television bigger than his head, but was still furnished in the same fashion as it had been all those years ago. Paintings were the same, the wallpaper was the same. Swallowing his nerves down, he sighed out. This was not going to be fun. He also wanted to break something. Or punch someone. Specifically Ivan. Hard. In the face.

Suddenly he felt Ivan push up against his back and he stiffened as the other bent down, his breath ghosting across his ear, "Da, I'm a very big boy. Wanna see later?"

"NEIN!!" with a swift motion, Gilbert spun around, fist poised and ready to assault before the other grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him closer.

Wagging his finger with a 'tsk', Ivan smiled, "Now, now, is that anyway to treat your fiance?"

"Fuck you! Let go of me!" the albino hissed, attempting to pull away from the other which was honestly quite the struggle.

"Mmmm," the Russian hummed, leaning into Gilbert more, "now there's a plan~."

With a loud growl and a roll of his eyes, Gilbert mashed his hands into Ivan's face and pushed him as far back as he could with the other's arms around his waist, "Get the fuck off before I kick you in the balls. We agreed on this!"

"Nyet," Ivan purred, grabbing both of Gilbert's wrists and moving his hands away, "You **suggested** no sex. I never agreed to it."

"Ivan, I swear to God if you-"

A buzz in Ivan's front pants' pocket caught both of their attention and Ivan pulled away casually, his hands letting go of Gilbert's wrists as he answered. The taller walked off towards the kitchen for privacy and Gilbert collapsed into the sitting chair near by. That was close. Way too close. His heart was beating hard in his chest as his breathing attempted to steady itself. This was going to prove difficult right fast if Gilbert couldn't get Ivan to understand he didn't want him fucking touching him! Giving another look towards the kitchen, Gilbert attempted at listening in but the conversation was in Russian. He quickly decided 'fuck that' and stood, scooping up three of his five bags and moving to the stairs before bounding up them. Like Christ he was sticking around downstairs any longer. Upon entering the bedroom that was now meant to be shared between the both of them, he spied a few opened and emptied dresser drawers in the dresser against the far left wall and half the closet emptied. Ivan must have went ahead and prepared for Gilbert's clothing... That...was actually pretty considerate... Dropping his things, he slid one suitcase over to the dresser to begin putting everything away when loud footsteps sounded up the stairs. Ivan emerged and dropped the last two suitcases before watching the other silently.

Neither said a word as Ivan leaned against the door frame of the bedroom door. Gilbert could feel his eyes boring holes into his back but he paid no mind. Well, as best he could anyway. He knew they were going to have to talk eventually. Once they got married all bets were off. Sex would happen eventually, as much as Gilbert prayed that it wouldn't. Finally, growing increasingly tired of the silent stare, Gilbert turned around and glared back.

"What?!"

With a smile, the man answered, "Just thinking of how nice you look doing laundry~."

Dear. God. "Keep talkin', Ivan... Just keep talkin'."

"That a threat?"

"Damn right it is!" the albino yelled back, fixing Ivan with a haughty glare.

The smirk on the Russian's face unnerved him but he stood - or sat, rather - his ground, "I'm going to fix dinner."

* * *

 

"I....honestly had no idea you could cook..."

Having walked into the kitchen - rather bravely, he might add - after finishing putting away his clothes, he watched as Ivan plated the food. It truly did look delicious, if he was going to be honest. When he had stayed before Lithuania cooked their meals most of the time. Sometimes Estonia would help. But Ivan? No, he never cooked. Why would he? He had people to do it for him.

The man in question gave a laugh as he slid a plate across the counter to a stool and motioned for the other to sit down, "Of course I know how to cook. Why would you say something as silly as that?"

"How about because you never lifted a finger the last time I stayed with you?" there was venom in those words but Ivan's smile never faded.

"Well," he began as he slid another plate across the island next to the other, "when I have such cute people like you to do it for me, why should I?"

"Oh, please!"

Outwardly, Gilbert had glared, crossing his arms across his chest before walking to the stool and plopping down. Though, on the inside he was very tempted to blush. Which couldn't be helped. Thank the Gods above he was able to hide it for some time. The last thing he needed was to start turning scarlet around Ivan! Watching silently as Ivan put the dishes in the sink, Gilbert began eating slowly. It really was good. He'd had this dish before, Lithuania made it often. Must be Ivan's favorite.

"Like it?"

He snapped from his thoughts and looked up towards the one questioning him, "Ja, it's good... At least I know I won't starve now."

"As if I'd let you starve," Ivan scoffed.

The other rounded the island and sat beside Gilbert, picking up his fork and beginning to eat as he pulled his cell from his pocket. Watching idly as he played in his food, Gilbert sighed to himself. This was so sickeningly domestic. It was odd. Shouldn't they be talking about this? About how their lives will be from now on? Instead, here they were eating dinner like they'd already been married for five years. Granted, Gilbert had lived with him once, so it wasn't too far fetched to fall into old habits around Ivan. But with a ring on his finger it felt very different.

"By the way," Ivan spoke up and Gilbert turned to face the other, "you're doing dishes~."

"Asshole!"

* * *

 

"So you're really okay?"

"Ja, I'm fine. Honestly, West, do you think I can't take care of myself or something??" the Prussian laughed as he held the phone to his ear.

He had listened to Ludwig prattle one for damn near thirty minutes about caring for himself and eating right that he'd tuned it out halfway. If Gilbert was going to be honest with himself, he was close to asking Ludwig for advice. Things were slowly starting to feel odd and it was only the first day. Though, he never brought himself to be able to do it. Standing on the back porch as the sun began to go down, he mindlessly held the phone to his ear as Ludwig began talking again. This time about an upcoming meeting that was scheduled after the wedding. Just hearing the word 'wedding' put a bad taste in his mouth. He'd gone to many throughout the three years they'd started this 'alliance' bullshit - he says bullshit now but he thought it was a pretty damn good idea a month ago. Antonio had married Lovino, as was expected. Francis to Arthur, again, expected. Hell, even Birdie was married off to Alfred! He was hoping that Ludwig would be next so he could tell him exactly how proud he was of him... Instead, it was him. Which he still didn't understand.

"Brother?"

Jolting a bit, Gilbert sat up straight on the patio chair he'd been resting on, "I'm here, sorry. What were you talking about?"

"Maybe you should get some rest. I know you're not too keen on the fact that you're going to be sharing a bed with the guy but even he can agree that you need sleep."

"Oh man, West, did you have to remind me?!" the albino groaned loudly into the receiver, slumping down in his seat, "I was just thinking about sleeping and now there's no way in hell I'll be able to!"

"Gilbert, you need to rest. Please. Don't make me call him."

"I swear to God, if you do that, West..."

Wrapping up with 'love you' and 'night', Gilbert hung up his phone and slipped it into his pocket before stretching in his chair. Hell, he'd sleep outside if it weren't damn near close to snowing. Scratch that, it was already snowing. Heavy footfalls from behind him caught his attention and he looked back to spy Ivan in the door way. Snarling, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away quickly, "What do you want?"

"I came to bring you to bed~," the other smiled, leaning against the door frame.

A scoff, "Ja well, I'll go to bed when I'm good and read- What are you doing?!"

"Your brother cornered me after our marriage negotiations," Ivan spoke up, picking Gilbert up in his arms before turning and carrying the other inside, "you need to rest. He made me promise to take good care of you and I agreed~!"

That little sneak... "Put me down, Ivan!!"

"Nyet," he spoke gently, making his way for the stairs, "you're going to bed, end of discussion."

"My legs are fine, I can walk!!" he thrashed in the other's hold in a vain attempt at forcing himself down, but Ivan's hold tightened, "Ivan, put me down!"

"You can yell it all you want to but that doesn't mean I have to comply," the Russian smiled down at the other as he made it to the bedroom, "Besides, if I were going to take you tonight I'd go ahead and do it. So stop worrying."

"Sure, that definitely makes me feel safe around you!"

Calming slightly as his feet hit the wooden floor of the bedroom, he looked up at Ivan who smiled in return. Blinking in confusion, a small tinge of red dusted his cheeks and he looked away stubbornly before shedding himself of his coat and tossing it at Ivan, not caring if he caught it or not. A low 'fine' was mumbled before he made his way to the dresser to undress and he looked back at Ivan.

"Leave."

With a tilt of his head, Ivan held Gilbert's coat in his arms, "Leave? You act as if I haven't seen it all before, Gilbert~."

"Don't bring that up!! That was one time!!"

"But it was good, da?" Ivan smiled at the other.

He was going to kill him. Straight up murder the guy with his bare hands, "It was one time and I forgot completely about it until now so nein, it sucked!"

Forcefully pulling off his sweater, he tossed it into the dirty clothes hamper before kicking off his shoes and shedding his jeans, tossing them into the same place. With the same force, he pulled his pajama pants on before grabbing a t-shirt and doing the same, turning and staring Ivan down. As he crossed his arms, he stamped in foot on the floor impatiently as the other trailed his eyes over his body, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Are you undressing or not?"

"I'd rather stare~."

"Jesus Christ..." Gilbert groaned, "I'm going to bed!"

"That was the point of this, wasn't it?" Ivan chuckled.

"Laugh at me again and I'm punching you in the nads."


	3. Chapter 3

When he woke up alone, Gilbert couldn’t explain how happy he was. The utter fear and annoyance he felt at the mere thought of waking up beside a still sleeping Ivan churned his stomach. He was fearful of not being able to stomach breakfast for the rest of his life! But when he was met with a cool breeze against his back instead of Ivan’s body heat, he’d practically lept from the bed in celebration.

Going about his usual morning routine of showering, brushing his teeth, and getting dressed, he plodded his way down the wooden stairs and into the foyer where he peeked out the window to the drive. The car was gone, sure enough. So Ivan wasn’t just awake, he was completely missing. Slumping against the wall, Gilbert ran his hands through his still drying hair in thought. Ivan being gone in general was a Godsend. Where Ivan had gone off to, however, was a completely different story. 

Was the bastard making wedding plans without him? Was he just meeting with his boss to talk about their shared properties now? Maybe he was being considerate and just went out to get breakfast so they wouldn’t have to cook. Gilbert could text him, it wasn’t as if they didn’t exchange numbers years ago. Fact was, though, Gilbert had never texted him and wasn’t about to start. Until he absolutely had to. And this particular occasion didn’t require a text.

Moving from the window, he made his way into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Just a glance alone forced a scowl to grace his features. Ivan clearly didn’t shop much. If they were meant to cook instead of eat out then how would they be doing so without food? Did Ivan eat out often? Did Ivan even eat properly?  With a slam of the fridge door, Gilbert groaned and stretched heavily. Ludwig might have forced Ivan to promise to watch out for him, but Ivan was obviously in a bad way. Gilbert wouldn’t give two thoughts about it if it weren’t for the fact that he now lived with the bastard.

“Shit a brick…” with another, more frustrated groan, Gilbert leaned against the counter in thought. They’d have to go shopping. And while he could read Russian, he wasn’t looking forward to it.

A chime from his phone brought him back to reality and he pulled it from the back pocket of his jeans. Seems Ivan was popping the SMS cherry. 

<Early morning meeting, bringing home breakfast.>

Hot damn, so Gilbert didn’t have to cook after all!

<Yeah, sure, but you really need to go shopping, dude.>

Sending the message, he pocketed his phone before entering the living room to await Ivan. 

The door opened slowly with a creak as Ivan entered. He was hard pressed to call for Gilbert until he peered into the living room. He’d heard the television but Gilbert had a bad habit of leaving appliances on when exiting a room, which Ivan picked up on quickly last night. On further inspection, he spied the albino curled up on the couch asleep and decided against raising his voice.

Removing his coat, Ivan picked up the bag of fast food and moved into the living room silently, sitting on the edge of the couch where Gilbert was curled up. The albino must have gotten bored with what he and his people consider day time television. He picked up the remote and turned the volume down before placing his hand on Gilbert’s shoulder and shaking gently.

“Food’s here,” he all but cooed into Gilbert’s ear with a smirk.

With a jolt, Gilbert shot up and hurried to the end of the couch away from Ivan who smiled in return, “I didn’t need you whispering in my fucking ear! You scared the piss outta me!”

“Come now, we’ve spent a whole twenty-four hours together by now~! What should you be afraid of?” waving the bag in Gilbert’s face, his smile widened as the Prussian grabbed for it, looking through everything to discern what was his and what wasn’t.

“I dunno, your crazy psycho sister?” shrugging, Gilbert handed the bag over after finding his food, “Or maybe that your hot breath on my ear is revolting as shit?”

“I don’t find my breath is that revolting. Unless you’ve a habit of laying near shit, then maybe you’re on to something.”

Gilbert fixed Ivan with a look of pure horror and confusion, breakfast sandwich forgotten in his hand, “Ja, I’ll give you that one but seriously… What time is it anyway?”

“Quarter after ten.”

“Fuck me, it’s that late??”

With a raise of his eyebrow, Ivan swallowed the bit of food he’d been chewing on before speaking, “Have plans today?”

“Ja, for one we need to shop! I already texted you about it.”

“Mmm?” removing his phone from his pants pocket, Ivan tapped the SMS button before chuckling, “So, that’s what that meant. It being you I was under the impression you were insulting my wardrobe.”

“Well,” side glancing the Russian, Gilbert finished his food, balling up the wrapping and tossing it in the bag when Ivan held it up, “while you don’t have a sense of style I haven’t snooped that far yet.”

With a hum, Ivan nodded as he finished his own food, “I’m amazed, I thought you would have uncovered the body in the attic by now.”

“What?!”

“I’m joking, Gilbert."

Scowling over at the Russian, Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest, “Ja, well, with you it’s hard to tell. I wouldn’t be surprised if I walked into the attic and actually found one…”

“Would you like to test that theory?” looping his arm on the back of the couch behind Gilbert, Ivan scooted closer, smile fading into a slight grin.

“Nein, back off,” shoving the taller away with his hand, Gilbert stood as he grabbed for the trash and headed off into the kitchen.

A groan escaped him as he reclined into the cushion of the couch, his head lolling backwards to rest against the wooden frame. It seemed so easy before all those years ago. A few intricately placed words and a few soft touches and Gilbert was his before the words even left his lips. Now? The Prussian was guarded and forcing him to back down at every turn. He swore he’d do this right but it was growing increasingly hard by the minute.

Standing swiftly, he followed Gilbert into the kitchen and leaned against the island counter as the other looked through the fridge, “So, what are we ‘shopping’ for, per say?”

“Food, for one,” lifting a brow, Gilbert moved from the fridge to showcase how bare it actually was, “I went through the spoiled food and this is what’s left, so we’re either gonna have to get over ourselves and actually get something done or starve. Your choice.”

Ivan glanced over the shelves, grimacing at the half jug of milk and plate full of last night’s leftovers. Was that truly all he had? Had he been neglecting shopping for that long? Katyusha was going to kill him. 

“Da, we probably should…” he trailed, eyes trained on the milk as if it were the milk’s fault.

“And,” catching his attention finally, Gilbert shifted as Ivan looked up, “we should probably talk about this damned wedding at some point….”

A coy smile slid onto Ivan’s features as Gilbert slammed the fridge closed, “My darling bride excited for the wedding, is he?”

“As if! But it’s my wedding too!” Gilbert hoped he hid the blush well.

“Yes, sir, no wedding planning without you. Understood, Captain,” another smirk and Ivan stood to salute, forcing the pink dusting across Gilbert’s cheeks to deepen.

“Please stop… Can we just go to the store already?”

“If you get your coat and shoes on, myshka.”

Deadpanning, Gilbert growled, “I’m not a child and don’t call me that.”

“You don’t even know what I said,” chuckling, Ivan moved to the front door to grab his own coat.

“That word could mean ‘King of the Universe’ and I still wouldn’t want you calling me that,” shoes now placed on his feet and tied, Gilbert slipped his coat on, buttoning it up.

Ivan doing the same, he looked over towards the other, “It means ‘little mouse’, if you must know.”

Gilbert paused, fingers fiddling with the last button on his coat before swallowing and looking up at Ivan, “Handing out pet names now?”

“Do you hate it?”

“Ja.”

“Then I’ll keep using it until you don’t,” smiling, Ivan bopped Gilbert on the nose before grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

The cold air cut through the warmth of the foyer and forced a shiver down Gilbert’s spine. He hated winter. He hated snow. He hated ice. Jesus, this was going to be a trip and a half this winter.

Following along, Gilbert hurried to the car and opened his own door before Ivan got the chance to do so for him. He buckled with the smuggest of smiles, crossing his arms and glancing out the window with sudden interest when Ivan entered the vehicle. 

The ride to the nearest supermarket was spent in silence. It was tempting to say something. Gilbert wasn’t sure what he would say but the urge gnawed at him. Ivan, however seemed content with the silence for once. It was unlike the man. It became increasingly obvious years ago that Ivan was the type to push. Buttons, wills, irritations, whatever Ivan could pinpoint as a weakness he would exploit. 

Glancing over at the Russian from the corner of his eye, Gilbert studied the look on his face. It was calm, almost serene if he could venture that far. Was Ivan really happy with this set up? Living together? Being married? There was no doubt in his mind that Ivan had somehow rigged it so they were paired together. But already being comfortable enough to relax in his presence was…unsettling. Gilbert couldn’t even bring himself to relax around Ivan, how could Ivan do it?

When the car jolted to a stop, Gilbert looked up towards the building as Ivan put the vehicle in park. It was a medium sized corner store with handwritten signs plastered to the windows. Workers milled about at cash registers as patrons entered and exited with carts. A slow sinking feeling settled in Gilbert’s stomach and he couldn’t quite place what it was. Nervousness? Maybe. They would have to walk around together and talk on platonic terms about what they’d plan to cook from today forth for dinner and so on. Yeah. Nervousness. Had to be!

With the click of his seatbelt as it unhooked and raveled back into place, Gilbert swung the car door open and stepped out, stretching as he awaited Ivan. He’d head inside without the big bear of a man but he felt even more uncomfortable doing that. Rounding the car to the driver’s side, Gilbert wrapped his arms around himself as a gust of wind threatened to push him over and he shivered.

Ivan noticed as he exited the vehicle, raising a brow, but didn’t say anything. Gilbert was prideful and stubborn, almost more so than he was. If Gilbert was cold then he’d prefer to sit there than tell anyone. Well, he wasn’t about to push so instead he motioned for Gilbert to lead the way and followed instead. Watching the albino intently from behind, he fisted his hands into the pockets of his coat. If he were going to be honest with himself, he was frustrated. In more ways than one.

He’d readily admit that the last time they’d spent any amount of time together that it was less than pleasant. Not only that, but it had begun on less than pleasant obligations. Gilbert was property at the time so Ivan spared no expense in letting the ex-Nation know that. Hell, he reminded him on every opportunity whenever one would arise. Now, however, they were equals. Right?

“Ivan.”

Apparently Gilbert had been trying to get his attention. Glancing from the albino to the cart he was currently leaning against, he smiled gently, “Hm?”

“Are you pushing the cart or am I?” motioning with his head, Gilbert moved to face Ivan better, his left arm resting heavily on the handle.

“You can, I don’t mind,” with a shrug, Ivan allowed Gilbert to move ahead in front as he followed along.

They walked in silence for a moment longer, Ivan merely studying Gilbert as the albino busied himself with reading the nutrition box on various food items he’d pick up. It was so mundane but intriguing at the same time. When had Gilbert taken an interest in nutrition to the point he would pause in the store to read over the information? He’d have to ask later.

“So, I was thinking,” Gilbert began as he placed a few boxes of whole wheat pasta in the cart, “instead of one of us cooking indefinitely and the other doing dishes indefinitely, we should just alternate.”

“Breakfast included?”

With a roll of his eyes, Gilbert huffed, “Sure, I guess. But you can make your own fucking lunch.”

“Well, that’s rude,” Ivan commented lowly with a faux pout, “What if I offered to make you lunch one day? Wouldn’t it be nice of you to do the same?”

“Buddy, you’re the one dumb enough to offer in hopes of me repaying you the day after. Not my problem,” an almost playful smile was shot towards Ivan as Gilbert moved on to the frozen section.

Ivan chuckled lightly as he followed, picking up a few things along the way that he noticed they needed, “True, but it would still be a nice gesture, would it not be?”

“I’ll think about it,” shrugging it off, Gilbert looked over the frozen vegetables before huffing and grabbing a few bags, “Thank God no other fucking Nations live with us, your shit’s expensive.”

He almost wanted to comment on that but it was still true. Buying fresh was even worse. Maybe they could plan a trip to a farmer’s market at some point. Honestly, it wasn’t as if Ivan had to worry about money but it sort of felt nice that Gilbert was actually being mindful of price. Ivan didn’t think Gilbert cared. If he were to be truthful, he pegged Gilbert as the ‘money-grows-on-trees’ type of guy. A small smile spread across his features before disappearing quickly when Gilbert turned around.

“Okay, your turn,” stepping from the cart, Gilbert shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, “To the meat.”

“Oh, I’ll give you some meat,” Ivan cooed in Gilbert’s ear before grabbing onto the cart and pushing.

“Can we not? We’re in the middle of the damn store.”

Humming, Ivan led the other towards the deli section before settling a sly grin on the man, “And you thought that would stop me?”

“Well,” muttering lowly, Gilbert gave the Russian and side glance, “I was hoping you’d at least keep your dick in your pants while out in public…”

“You underestimate me, Gilbert,” stopping and leaning against the cart, Ivan watched as Gilbert leaned over to eye the meat with a groan, “What?”

“I’m not too partial to beef, so please tell me you’re okay with ground turkey…” glancing up, Gilbert looked over Ivan for his reaction.

“Not partial to beef?” well, that was new, “When did that start?”

“Look, this ain’t a therapy session.”

Ivan laughed before nodding, “Da, that’s fine. So, is it all red meat?”

“Not particularly fond of ham any more either,” shrugging, Gilbert grabbed a few packages with turkey and chicken, settling them into the cart.

“Merely for the fact that you’re eating cleaner?” Ivan couldn’t help but to keep questioning, he was honestly highly curious.

Gilbert eyed Ivan as they continued their trek towards the snack foods, “I mean...I’ve always ate rather healthy…” hadn’t he? Sure, Gilbert would never pass up anything deep fried and far be it from him to say no to a beer.

“You hardly ate the last time we lived together so I wouldn’t know,” with a shrug, Ivan quieted as Gilbert picked out a few more things.

“Well, whatever, it’s not an entirely new revelation,” the albino muttered, “I’m done here, let’s go.”

Ivan chuckled before heading off to the registers and paying. With the car loaded up, they each settled in their seats and Ivan backed the car out. Slowly, he moved from the parking lot onto the road before speaking again, “So, about the wedding.”

“Nothing girly, for one,” crossing his arms, Gilbert looked over towards the other, “And two, we’re both wearing black because fuck white. And three, no bouquets.”

“Quite demanding,” he muttered as he turned onto the street their house was located on - he’d have to get used to referring to the house as ‘theirs’, “I’ll take it you want booze,” an affirmative cry of ‘ja’ came as his answer, “Reception?”

“Fuck reception…” Gilbert trailed off before groaning, “I dunno, do we have to? Who the hell cares?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that, “Don’t want to have our first dance?”

“Fuck no!”

Well, Ivan couldn’t complain, he wasn’t much for dancing anyhow, “I’m okay with that. But we have to have some type of decoration, so better start picking out flowers. And a cake, at the most, we should probably feed everyone something.”

With a low hum, Gilbert almost drooled, “Cake’s gonna be the best part of this shit-show.”

“Dare even say the star?”

A groan, “Fuck yeah, it is.”

“Just don’t eat it all by yourself,” Ivan chuckled, pulling into the drive gently.

“Fuck you, it’s my fuckin’ cake.”

Putting up his hands in mock surrender, Ivan unbuckled, “So much for eating clean, huh?”

“Listen, dickweed,” doing the same, Gilbert hopped out when Ivan did, “it’s a wedding. Those calories don’t count.”

There Ivan laughed, “I don’t think it works that way.”

“Like fuck it won’t,” watching as the trunk popped open, Gilbert grabbed as many bags as he could, “I said it does so it does. End of story.”

“All right, all right.”

Gilbert moved first, stomping up the stairs and kicking the door in once it was unlocked. Ivan cringed lightly as the wood resounded off the wall and moved to check the damage, “I really hope that doesn’t become a habit.”

“You keep whispering dick jokes in my ear and I’ll kick that fuckin’ door as much as I want, pal.”

“Oh boy,” groaning, Ivan followed to the kitchen to help put everything away, “I feel our first couple’s fight coming along.”

Gilbert snorted, working on the canned food as Ivan filled the fridge, “Who said we were going to fight about it?”

“Gilbert…”

“I’m not gonna kick your damn door, Jesus,” with a roll of his eyes, Gilbert waved the taller off, “My hands were full.”

Gilbert muttered something under his breath that Ivan didn’t quite catch. Staring for a moment, he wondered if he should press but decided it wasn’t worth it. Gilbert was Gilbert, after all. He knew what he was signing up for as soon as the votes were in. Though he’d hoped that maybe Gilbert had changed a little. Maybe less hostile? He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for, in all honesty. Of course, he didn’t expect wooing the German to be an easy task but...Lord was Gilbert making him work for it.

Once food was put away, Gilbert slid from the counter and stretched, throwing off his shoes and picking them up to store them at the front door, “Guess I’m cookin’ tonight?”

“Well, it was your plan, darling,” knowing smirk in place, Ivan closed the fridge before looking over.

With the narrowing of his eyes, Gilbert glowered at Ivan, “I swear to fuck if you start callin’ me ‘babe’ I’m gonna birth a baby.”

“I don’t really know how to respond to that threat.”

“Good,” walking off, Gilbert tossed his shoes towards the direction of the door and plodded his way into the living room before huffing and throwing himself onto the couch.

The hell was he suppose to cook for dinner?


End file.
